


Meilleurs Potes

by Miss_Von_Cheese



Category: Jurassic World Trilogy (Movies)
Genre: Best Friends, Character(s) of Color, Fluff, French Characters, Friends With Benefits, Friends to Lovers, M/M, Open Relationships, Reunited and It Feels So Good, relationship studies
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-01-18
Updated: 2019-01-20
Packaged: 2019-10-12 05:37:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 7,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/17461622
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Miss_Von_Cheese/pseuds/Miss_Von_Cheese
Summary: She's not an easy woman to be around, sure, she's got a lot of flaws and her priorities are far from theirs, but every time he sees her, Owen turns from cool and funny to arrogant asshole in a second.“You are so nice,” Claire sighs as she turns to Barry with a sympathetic look. “How can you be friend with such an idiot?”“He doesn't act this way with me,” Barry simply shrugs matter-of-factly. “When you're here, he becomes dumb.”





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This chapter takes place before the first Jurassic World movie.

The tension is thick and the four young raptors screech angrily as Owen leaves the scene of his last heated argument with Claire, next to their enclosure. Barry watches over the girls, they look particularly restless, stressed out by their surrogate father's ridiculous fight. He would like to offer support and stand with him against their manager but he can't deny Owen often acts like a jerk in front her, for no evident reason. She's not an easy woman to be around, sure, she's got a lot of flaws and her priorities are far from theirs, but every time he sees her, Owen turns from cool and funny to arrogant asshole in a second. 

“You are so nice,” Claire sighs as she turns to Barry with a sympathetic look. “How can you be friend with such an idiot?” 

“He doesn't act this way with me,” Barry simply shrugs matter-of-factly. “When you're here, he becomes dumb.” 

Claire lets out a soft groan. “I see. This is why he’s so comfortable around these beasts, just like them he’s a slave to his hormones.” 

And just like that she leaves, talking to someone in her earpiece, stride angry on her impossibly high heels. Barry watches her go, hands in his pockets. He knows these two will eventually get together, he’s certain of it, that is... if they ever find a way to communicate, and only if Owen manages to be nicer. 

Barry has been wondering for a while now why his friend treats Claire, and all the women he flirts with for that matter, like he's some rebellious teenage boy. He thought for a moment it was an hormonal thing: perhaps, like many animals, Owen would parade in front of females to appear stronger than he really was and attract potential sexual partners? That’s zoology 101. If it were the case though, why wouldn't he do the same with Barry, with whom he has sex at least once a week? 

The french raptor caretaker knows Owen has a complex personality he has not yet managed to fully apprehend, and he doesn't really mind. They are good friends, they work really well together… Barry finds it pleasant to have someone close to share fun moments with, otherwise, as cool as their jobs are, they would never have real breaks on the island. It just baffles him sometimes how he is the only one to see that softer side, the parts of Grady no one is allowed to even get a glimpse of. 

Of course Owen would like to date women on occasions, maybe settle with one of them, Barry can see it. He even tries sometimes to be his wingman but as soon as Grady feels like he has someone to seduce, he turns his moron attitude on and makes 21th century girls want to run away. Barry has never had anything against a dominant guy once in a while, as long as it's a respectful person and not some racist Grindr fetishist, yet even he knows he could not bear Owen if he played his macho acts with him. 

They don't date, they never get sappy and they don't really know what they are, exactly. Friends with benefits would be the closest definition of their little thing going on. It's not exclusive for sure, and Barry was at first a bit concerned, afraid to be seen as a promiscuous Frenchie by his best friend, even perhaps get a bad name in the park because of this. His job was too cool to risk ruining his chances being a real “voulez-vous coucher avec moi” stereotype. He had quickly been reassured as nothing changed between them: even after their buddies nights became sweeter they managed to keep their initial friendship intact, maybe even more intense. 

Barry likes this arrangement; this is surprisingly usual in isolated spaces where scientists are forced to work together for long periods of time, he heard of it in the past and now he lives the dream, taking care of dinosaurs and getting laid with his hot coworker on a regular basis. Owen's warm touch is a nice change from cold blooded saurians. 

They have been hanging out often since they started working together on Isla Nublar, even though they knew and appreciated each other greatly before that. With time and after many incredible adventures shared, they started finding comfort in each other's arms. First it was on game nights, cheering for each other's teams, both at football and soccer --and no, Barry would never admit what he named “football” was soccer! Americans were the weird ones, ok? Then they started watching movies, tv shows, cooking contests, anything that could distract them and spark funny conversations. They ordered pizza from the island's restaurants and drank soft beers, talking and laughing like kids at a sleepover. Of course, when they were in Owen's trailer they had to watch the screen from his bunk, because there was no room for cosy chairs. 

Netflix and chill quickly turned into cuddling intermedes, then slow and sensual make-out sessions. Outside their private bubble, Owen was a strong ex-marine barking orders and bonding with predators but in the darkness of his trailer, he showed Barry a new side of him, softer, sweeter, tender and able to care about a small selected sample of humans. They sometimes had to stop right in the middle of a kiss to cheer for their teams, focused both on the game and each other's lips, or they would let their hands wander during a boring episode of their favorite show, and their languorous kisses often tasted like junk food and beer.

Barry likes that relationship, more than he would admit. It is a way to explore his sexuality in a slow and friendly fashion, opportunities he was denied growing up in Seine Saint Denis, where his friends were not so open about sensual explorations that were not inspired by porn, or everything that was not straight for that matter. The few teenagers and men he managed to lay his hands on were all so deep in the closet it always hurt, and it was not when he got a college scholarship that he found the time to discover himself better. Even though he used to worry about his orientation at first, he now knows nothing is weirder than being a French man, in a Costa Rica island, training actual dinosaurs for a living. Loving men is the most usual part of him.

With him Owen is cuddly, gentle, far from this alpha cover he presents in public. Just last night Barry crashed in his trailer, exhausted after a long day of running around. As they debriefed their epic day like buddies, ranting about their unbearable superiors, drinking beer and eating hot pockets, Owen suggested a foot massage and, okay it might be a cultural difference or something, but for him it has always been perfectly normal to rub his best friend's feet. After a while, Owen started to insist on Barry's soft spots, aware of the many ways to make him moan with his thumbs against his soles. 

“Nooo, pfff,” Barry complained, head rolling on the wall he was sitting against. “I am tired…” 

“Is that a ‘I'm tired and I don't wanna have sex’ or a ‘I'm tired I want it to be effortless’?” Owen asked with one of his shit-eating grins. They both knew he would respect any answer, no matter how frustrated he would be.

Barry laughed, helped him up with a “ _Viens là, p'tit con_ ” and let Owen straddle him and ride him nice and slow until they were ready to fall asleep in each other's arms. It just can't get more casual than that, and casual is exactly what they both need. No more extreme feelings, no more explosive sensations, their workplace provides for all of those already. 

As hard as he tries not to, Barry can't help analyzing his best friend's behavior like he’s one of their scaly protégés. He knows Owen doesn’t treat him better than others because he loves him, that’s not how it is… and maybe that’s just exactly why it is, actually. Barry is not in love. He likes what they have, he loves their friendship, a bond that remained over time and several continents, but he doesn’t feel anything romantic for Owen, and he’s pretty sure when he grows older, he will cherish the memories of one of his favorite fuck buddies, but he doesn’t see them settle down together. 

Owen never said or did anything to show he would like that either. He is the kind of guy who can say a terrible joke during a blowjob and laugh until both their hard-ons are gone, but no matter what kind of intimacy they share, he can wake up snuggling Barry and still call him “buddy” or “my best friend” like it’s no one else’s business. 

For a while the Frenchie wondered if there was internalized homophobia at play, like some of his very first boyfriends who even refused to hang out with him in public just in case someone would suspect anything wrong. He thought at first Owen would be one of those guys who can fuck you senseless at night then ignore you during the day, but in front of all their colleagues, the ex-marine just kept acting normally, still the same amount of eye contact and friendly touches, nothing to show, nothing to hide. No amount of sex or serious talks during the night would ever change their daylight relationship. 

Barry also thought for a moment it was a soldier thing, maybe in the forces, another very masculine environment, Grady had gotten into the habit of fraternizing with his men without it leading to more serious relationships, but that does not explain why he is such a moron in front of ladies. 

.

The sun is about to set behind the mountains when Barry finally finds Owen next to the herbivores enclosure. The vegetarians are not their field of expertise but they love all these little and not so little creatures, and both men enjoy to stroll around the park, say hello to the dinos who get too often ignored by these cold-hearted folks from their hierarchy. Barry walks closer as his friend strokes the horn of a young triceratops; he looks peaceful, relaxed, all happy smiles and comforting words as he talks to her. His touch is gentle and he treats her like a real heavyweight armored princess. He could obviously never do that with raptors, and even though he loves them so much and the girls are his babies, he is not half as relaxed around them, despite fences and cages. 

And this is when it just clicks. Barry observes his friend’s body language for a minute, notices the relaxed shoulders, the way he leans forward with a sincere smile, not trying to assert dominance. He makes his presence known and Owen just grins wider, inviting him to come say hello to the baby girl. Barry places his hand on Owen’s side, whispers “ _Salut beauté_ ” to the young tank-shaped lizard. He feels like laughing as he mentally compares both situations, his friend trying to bond with dinosaurs and with people. 

Owen acts like women are predators. Like they could tear him up with their claws and teeth. Every time he sees one he might be interested in, he just shows bravado, puts his chin up, puffs his chest, tries to make himself look stronger to hide his fear. He is nervous and defiant, therefore he's an ass, as if romantic relationships were more dangerous than their casual sex. 

If Owen lets his guard down in presence of Barry, when it’s just the two of them, it’s because he’s not afraid of the consequences. They’re just buddies, right? He doesn’t have to prove anything to his best friend, they don't have any sort of competition going on, nor performances to be rated. He can stop in the middle of sex if he doesn’t feel like it anymore, he can snore, he can burp in front of tv and never get a bad glare. He doesn’t have to date, to buy presents, the best way to show he cares is to listen to his rants and threaten to punch a racist investor once in a while. And most importantly, he doesn’t have to be an alpha, nor treat anyone like betas, he can just be himself, without pressure or societal expectations. 

Barry shakes his head with a chuckle. Owen should really hang out with more humans and fewer prehistoric animals, isolation is not good for his mindset. However the trainer can’t really say he doesn’t find this attitude endearing; he loves this privilege, being able to see the guy behind the mask. Owen might be the strangest specimen Barry ever had to study, which in return allows him not to ask himself why he came to get lost on this island at the end of the world as soon as his blue-eyed friend asked him to. The strangest specimen of all who gives the best massages and lazy morning handjobs, who can tell his best friend he just received a new shipment of beer and condoms like it’s something all his friends should know. 

“My place?” Owen offers as he stands up, “I want to finish the movie, you fell asleep last night.” 

“Okay,” Barry nods with a smile. 

He really wants to tell him he’s an idiot, but also kinda needs to kiss him right now. No, he’s not falling for him, it’s different. Seeing the scared boy behind the big man’s facade doesn’t make Barry’s heart beat faster. He’s not happy that Claire sees him on Owen’s bike, holding his waist as they ride towards his trailer by the lake. 

It’s not it, he thinks, they’re just good buddies. _Meilleurs potes_. Friends with benefits. He would not change that for anything in the world, as long as they’re on the same island.


	2. A New Era

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Set after "Fallen Kingdom". 
> 
> The boys reunite after the last Jurassic World event, Owen tells Barry what happened and they both admit they missed each other way too much.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I wanted to write a bit more fluff about them and support lovely Barry, and it turned out as a whole load of french culture references, so bear with me!

“ _Ok, on verra ça ! À la semaine prochaine !_ ” (Ok we'll see about it, see you next week!)

Barry grabs his coat and swiftly escapes the room before anyone else asks another question. He is tired, he has to leave. For the last two weeks he has been the most wanted man in the country, his advice and expertise on dinosaurs being all of a sudden a great asset and not just the punchline of a joke. France has never cared much for all the Jurassic Park projects before but since the last incident, and now that they can expect gigantic lizards to show up at their border anytime soon, the authorities are now really interested in the topic. Everyone wants to question him, scientists, gossip magazines, military forces, even the immigration department (he politely told to fuck off).

Barry hides under his hood, changes his body language to blend among the young men hanging out outside Gare d'Austerlitz, and let people forget for a while that he is *the* famous trainer who worked on Isla Nublar at the time of the destruction of the theme park --all of his following work bears very little importance to mainstream media. As he reaches the subway entrance, he checks out his phone. He's got a text from Agatha, brilliant director of the Museum d'Histoire Naturelle, thanking him for his input on the situation, and one from Jamy Gourmaud asking for an exclusive interview. Ok, this one he will accept, no one from his generation could refuse Jamy anything. 

The thing is, Barry doesn't know much more than others about what happened on the ruins of the park these last few weeks; he's followed the news, talked to die hard fans on Discord, but he doesn't know, really, what that whole mess was about. He just sees that now, on top of many political crisis, a real ecologic nightmare, and unfair social situations, dinosaurs walk the Earth once again. A prospect he's both terrified and excited about. 

He wants to do something but he doesn't know where to start, he is very in demand here and he can't just hop on the first flight to the USA without thinking. Where would he go? What could he do, where would he be most useful? And most importantly, how will his stubborn people react to the first plesiosaurus on their beach? Will the French throw protests against diplodocus too? 

A couple of weeks earlier he sent Owen an email to ask for news and precisions about the situation, hoping his friend would have intel to share, but he hasn't received any reply yet, and to be honest it worries him. If the reason for this silence is that Owen has moved on from this whatever it is they had, and found himself a partner, maybe Claire, then he can understand. They never were together anyway, it's rough but it wouldn't be the first time he's pushed away by a friend in love. C'est la vie.

The problem is, he's not even sure Owen is still alive, and that thought really hurts. He has no idea what really happened there, the media coverage probably reached overseas country through several layers of censorship, to avoid telling people the truth. What they see, what they know is just the top of an iceberg Barry suspects is terrifying. 

Barry waits for line 10, eager to come back home. Half of the crowd either talks about the president's last idiotic speech, or spreads rumors about the dinosaur incident. 

“ _Mon oncle en a vu un dans son champ en Bourgogne ! -Ma mémé de Bretagne a vu un dinosaure dans l'eau, j'te jure !_ ”  
(My uncle saw one in his field in Burgundy! -Ma grandma from Britain saw a dinosaur in the water, I swear!)

A young man with a shaved head and explicit tattoos spits, “ _Y'avait les immigrés, maintenant t'as ces saloperies de nuisibles, on n'est plus chez nous putain!_ ”. (There were immigrants, now those fucking pests, this fucking country ain't ours anymore!)

Barry tries not to say anything and moves away, rolling his eyes. It's not the time to start a fight he'll lose anyway when the cops show up. He smiles to a little girl who nods, “ _Les dinosaures y z'étaient là bien avant nous hein?_ ” (Dinosaurs were there way before we did, right?)

She proceeds to open a box of dinosaur cookies, and hands Barry one of them. The trainer takes a bite, remembering the sweet taste of these cookies he hasn't eaten in years. When he was a kid, they already were his favorite. He remembers eating them while watching science shows on the tiny tv of the living room, while his many brothers and sisters tried to switch channels; they often stole the controller but he growled and put “C'est pas sorcier” back on, as he hid the t-rex cookies, his favorite, in his backpack.

The train is approaching, rumbling loud on its tracks, when Barry feels his phone buzz in his pocket. He knows it's probably another journalist asking for an interview, or a magazine who wants his Isla Nublar stories once again. At least he can save some money these days! He picks up, yet another unknown number.

“Allô ?” 

“Hey, Barry, I- uh… it's me,” a deep voice says, hesitant, sounding unsure. 

Barry's legs stop moving, he freezes on the platform. Fuck. Owen’s alive! The joy that fills his heart in this very moment is unprecedented, and he lets out a happy sigh.

“Grady! Fuck! You scared me, man, how are you? Why didn't you reply sooner? I was worried!” 

“Reply?” Owen says and he sounds so tired! Barry feels guilty for demanding explanations, his friend seems exhausted. “I lost my phone in the ruckus, I suppose you saw what happened. Did you leave me a voicemail?”

“Email,” Barry smiles, all warm and tingly hearing that voice he missed so much. “It's ok, really, how are you?” 

Owen lets out a tired laugh. “Email? I haven't checked those in a month, sorry pal. I was kinda…”

“... busy?” Barry suggests. The subway has left without him, he'll wait for the next one, with the small chocolate covered stegosaurus melting between his fingers. 

“We can say that,” Owen confirms. He takes a breath, strangely not confident for a man like him. “So, uh… I didn’t know what to do after all this mess, I-- I just landed in Charles de Gaulle, do you think I could see you?” 

Barry would really, really like to think it's pure and intense friendship that swells his heart in this moment but he'd be lying to himself. He grins like a fool among all the busy people running around him, strangely still in the middle of this agitation. “Are you serious?” 

“Hmm, they all wanted me to take things in hand but that's not my thing.” Owen pouts. It sounds so terribly Grady! Barry wants to slap his shoulder in response and already hates that Owen is not right here, by his side. “Claire stayed there to be the responsible adult and… I took a vacation, trust me, I earned it.”

Behind his friend's voice, Barry recognizes the announcements of an electronic voice. He orders, “Just take the RER B, I'll meet you at Gare du Nord, ok?” 

When they hang up Barry feels electric, nervous, like there are so many things left unsaid between them. This is so unexpected! He didn't think when he woke up this morning that they would be reunited so soon, that he would finally have answers about what really happened -and that he’d have to deal with all his buried feelings, suddenly revived like cloned dinosaurs. He almost runs to line 5 and jumps between the doors as they close; he barely breaks a sweat, the peak of his adventures now seems vanilla compared to what he experienced on Isla Nublar.

.

The train station is crowded when he finally reaches its destination. He runs to the suburb trains platforms, climbing the stairs in a hurry, swift as an athlete, excited like a kid. He can't help looking at his reflection in a window, wonders why he does that. It's not a date, he is just welcoming a friend he hasn't seen in a long time. No need to look good for him, right? It's not like Owen really cares, the guy used to snuggle him when he was covered in dust, mud, and saurian spit. 

“ _Mon coeur_ !” (Sweetheart!)

Barry's heart misses a beat as he recognizes a voice he was not ready to hear right now. He turns around with an embarrassed grin.

“ _M'man_ !” (Ma!)

His mother just got out of the subway too, on her way to Saint-Denis, looking radiant and colorful as always. She reaches for him, warm and comforting, and hugs him like he doesn't stand two feet taller than her. He notices the baby she wears on her back with a wrap that matches her beautiful wax dress.

“ _Oh ! C'est la fille de Fatou ?_ ” (Oh, is is Fatou's daughter?)

His mother's judgmental glare shows how wrong he is. “ _Non, c'est le fils de Khoudia._ ” (No, Khoudia's son.)

“ _Désolé, j'ai pas arrêté de travailler ces derniers temps, je suis paumé,_ (Sorry I can't stop working lately, I'm so lost!)” he apologizes and hugs her one more time to be forgiven and enjoy her warmth. She always was kind and supportive to him, even when he made choices the family did not understand.

She runs her hands on his arms, silently evaluates his mensurations with an expert eye. “ _Tu es tout maigre! Tu manges correctement? Tu viens dîner samedi soir?_ ” (You are so skinny! Do you eat well? Will you join us for dinner on saturday?)

Barry feels like he can't escape the offer and agrees, discreetly giving the baby a piece of the cookie he had in his pockets. “ _Ok mais ne fais pas trop à manger hein, ne te fatigue pas pour moi !_ ” (Ok but don't overdo it, right, don't exhaust yourself for me!)

She promises she won't strain herself over the meal, and Barry can already smell the rice and millet, the drizzling chicken, peanut sauce, and spices in her kitchen. He knows she will cook a real feast for him but can’t deny he needs it badly, to spend some time home surrounded by friends and family, to forget about work for a while. 

His breath catches in his throat and he feels his cheeks burning as he looks up. With his backpack on his shoulder and his dusty baggy pants, Owen looks so alien in the crowd of the train station, so… American. 

Barry hesitates. Their eyes meet. A silent fleeting moment, as if someone pressed the pause button. It doesn't take more than a second before they’re in each other's arms, a warm embrace, anything but casual, between two souls kept too long from each other. Barry was scared to have lost his friend; he can feel in the way the toned arms hold him the feeling was shared. 

When they finally let go, Maman grabs his wrist, an eyebrow raised, outraged not having received more updates on her son's love life, “ _Barry M'Bow Sembène, tu ne m'avais pas dit que tu avais un copain !_ ” (Barry M'Bow Sembène, you didn't tell me you had a boyfriend!)

Uh, oh, here come troubles. Barry blushes and stammers, “ _Non M'man, non c'est pas mon copain, en fait, euh…_ ” (No Ma’, no he's not my boyfriend, actually, uh…)

Of course Owen has to intervene, trying to sound cool but still looking hurt, “Why would you say that, I am your friend, right?” 

“Yes, yes you are!” Barry whines, not sure how to get out of this mess. “She meant ‘boyfriend’.” 

He gives Owen a sorry look, he didn't plan on freaking him out, but the bastard just chuckles. He looks too tired to take offense. An electronic voice announces the next departure of line H for Saint-Denis and Maman hugs him one last time before she trots away. 

“ _Vous venez tous les deux samedi, ton copain aidera Foulah avec ses devoirs d'anglais, d'accord?_ ” (You two will come on saturday, your boyfriend will help Foulah with her english homework, ok?)

Barry doesn't dare refusing, he leaves the resolution of this problem to his future self and waves at her, while the baby on her back waves back with his chubby little hand covered in chocolate and crumbs. 

Now that his maternal protection is gone, Barry looks almost shyly at Owen. The American trainer seems worn out, like he hasn't rested in weeks, which is probably true, and new wrinkles appeared on his tanned face. He looks like an attractive ‘Dinosaur Dundee’.

“My place?” Barry suggests. “Or do you have things to do first?” 

Owen gently holds his elbow to be guided in the crowd and labyrinth of corridors, his voice barely a whisper. “Your place. I don't want to have anything to do.” 

Barry gives him a warm smile and tries not to look too enamored. He is just happy, reassured that his best friend is alive and decided to visit. That's all, nothing more. Whatever Owen is here for, he'll take it --does that sound desperate? He is still his most talented co-worker so far, Barry is glad to have him around to handle the crisis. 

“Missed you, man,” Barry blurts as the subway doors close, not to be heard, maybe even not by Owen. 

Owen squeezes his elbow as he mumbles back, “Missed you too”, then yawns. 

The rest of the trip to his small apartment in Maison-Alfort is set in a comfortable silence, no words spoken but familiar warmth shared as they rediscover each other. They judge with gentle looks how they both have changed. 

Just before they reach home, Barry buys them two kebabs so that they don't have to go out again for the evening. He hears the growls of Owen's stomach echo in the stairs. Air France meals are not suitable for a big guy like him. When the door closes, Owen lets his backpack fall to the ground with a sigh. Just as he did when they finally reached his trailer after hard days in the park, once he feels home and safe, he lets go of all expectations placed over him. 

“You look shitty,” Barry smirks. 

Owen has to admit as he sees his reflection in the mirror that he does, and laughs. He shrugs, asks as an apology for his appearance, “Did you see they made an Indominus Raptor?”

Barry's jaw almost hits his own chest as he removes his coat. “Tu déconnes ?” 

.

“And this is how I ended up taking blood from Rexy to save Blue's life,” Owen says, prouder than he would admit about his epic tales. It's the first time he can tell the story from his point of view without getting dumb questions, Barry loves his privileged status.

Now that their stomachs are full and they lazily rested on the couch for a good part of the evening, they both still feel tired but more able to hold conversations. And what conversations! Barry is like a child on christmas eve as he listens to all of his friend's adventures, legs bouncing and stars in his eyes. He cannot stop smiling, partly because of the awe-inducing stories, as well as the tender smiles he is offered.

“You've got to be kidding me! This is so cool!”

“Yeah, in retrospect it was,” Owen admits. “But I almost pissed my pants a few times, not gonna lie.” 

“I would have too!” Barry laughs. He leans against the back of the couch with a sigh that's both dreamy and nostalgic. “Man, I wish I were there!” 

Giving conferences and talks about his work among fossils in museums is far less exciting than actually living those adventures. Owen nods, and his eyes get softer.

“I wish you were there with us too. Dude, we had this kid on the team, I swear… some kind of big glasses nerd, before he came to the island he was afraid of bugs and mosquitoes… can you imagine?” 

Barry bursts out laughing --his legs rest on Owen's who don't seem to mind, “And I bet you saved his ass like you always do. Can't fight your father instincts, man!” 

“Pffffrt, what fath-- don't be a jerk!” Owen protests like it's the silliest idea but his cheeks slightly blush, proving the Frenchie's not wrong. 

His hand finds Barry’s and he lets their fingers curl together, strokes his light brown palm with his thumb. 

“You took great care of Blue,” Barry sighs. He’s just as touched by her story, just as moved by her departure as his friend is. He’s always uncle Barry, nothing more, but he loved her just as much. “You’re the best thing that happened to her life, you gave her what all these greedy businessmen in charge could never have.” 

For a second Barry wonders if he’s really talking about their young blue-striped raptor, or about himself. He’s not sure. He’s happy to see their physical intimacy was not lost during the months they were parted. Owen can still talk to him about important topics while touching him, so casual and tender. Distance did not break their bond. He doesn’t know what Owen is up to, if he just wants a hot night or a new workplace collaboration, but Barry is ready for both. Owen leans in, slowly, searches for his gaze. He hesitates. 

“I… missed you. I really missed you,” he whispers as they noses brush. 

Barry can’t help smiling. “Yeah, me too.” 

Their cheeks brush, warm breath falling from their parted lips. Their mouths search in silence, teasing, hesitant. 

Barry knows he was missed, because he missed him too, more than words could tell. What they had was special and he hasn’t found a similar relationship with anyone else yet. No one could give him the same amount of intellectual stimulation, push him to work harder to discover more about different life forms and their behaviors, and still enjoy dumb shows and junk food. None of his occasional one night stands could fuck him senseless then talk in the same hour about raptors dietary restrictions in captivity, or could share hilarious memories of being caught during a particularly hot blowjob by a curious compsognathus. Barry might have become very demanding with his dates; his standards after meeting Owen were too high. He knows he shouldn’t ask for more, shouldn’t become clingy or he’d make the ex-marine run away. This is why he never said anything before.

Their lips still don’t touch and he doesn’t know why. Owen likes it slow but now it’s just excruciating although he is relaxed, and this is not one of his predatory teasings. His hands find Barry’s neck, gently hold him closer. They relish in each other’s scent, the warmth of their bodies, the steady sound of their breaths. Barry feels his friend’s thumb stroke the pulse on his throat. 

The kiss, when it finally reaches his lips, is less impetuous and naughty than Barry expected. It’s tender, soft, almost shy. They linger without pressing more. Barry's hands find Owen’s waist. It’s been so long, he missed him so much more than he’d care to admit. In a second it’s like they are back on the island, making out on the shore of the lake, living their best life. 

Owen breaks the kiss and looks away, “Fuck. I shouldn’t have, I… I should have booked a room. I’m imposing myself here, I don’t want you to think that you have to…” 

Barry runs his fingers in the short hair, brushes the blond stubble on his cheeks. “Hey, relax. It’s all good, you can stay here for as long as you need. You had a rough time there, I understand you need to rest.” 

Owen looks disturbed, restless. He shakes his head with a frown. Barry presses a gentle kiss to his temple then scoots back on the couch to give him some space. His voice is low, steady, as he would talk to a defiant animal. 

“What is it you want?” 

“I don’t know,” Owen sighs, running a hand over his face to clear his mind. “I know what I don’t want. Being far from you sucked, man. I don’t want to repeat that.”

Barry smiles, he rests his hand on Owen’s thigh with a knowing look, “Yeah, I get that. We had great talks but there are some things you just can’t skype.” 

Owen looks down, holds Barry’s hand. “Yeah… and Blue, you know… when Blue left, I felt terrible. I understand she had to live her own life, but it hurt to see her go, be her own grown girl.”

“Kids…!” Barry approves knowingly.

“And I realized that it was not just about her. I thought about her birth, everything we did for her and her sisters, how we raised them, and she made me realize what… who was the most important for me. I did not just miss you during the last turn of events, I was missing you like hell before that.” 

This time, it might be Barry who’s freaking out, because Owen looks softer and more stable than ever. He voices feelings Barry had buried deep down because he’d never dare to even whispers them, not to Owen, the guy who’s so afraid of relationships and commitment --with humans that is. Never Barry would have said he liked him and missed him that way, unless he had been a raptor of some sort. All his repressed feelings march back to him like raging triceratops, shaking his heart on their way. 

“You want us to be serious?” Barry smirks, unable to believe what is happening. 

“Your mama thinks we are, right? I mean, if you want to,” Owen shrugs, and just like that he’s back to his old self, hiding his lack of confidence behind a smug mask. “If you moved on, it’s alright you know. I just wanted to enjoy some fancy ass holidays in Paris…” 

Barry shushes him with a finger on his lips. “Oh no. Not with me. Don’t give me that Alpha bullshit.” 

Owen holds his gaze for a second before he looks away with an embarrassed grin. “What?”

They remain silent for a moment, both thinking about the implications of their open-hearted conversation. Barry’s heart skips a beat when Owen talks again. 

“So, I’m just wondering. Do you want us to work together again? Can I change my Facebook relationship status yet?” 

“These are two very different questions,” Barry teases, trying to hide his glee and failing spectacularly. He leans in and buys himself some time with a warmer kiss. Owen’s moan against his lips wakes his body up in a way he had forgotten. This time there’s something more. More than friendship and being good buddies, more than acting like college kids flirting for the first time. 

“You asked for what I want,” Owen whispers without looking at him, fingers running up and down his shaved head. “I want to study dinosaurs in the wild with my favorite trainer, see what happens now that everything’s changed. I want to limit the damages the Wall Street wolves will do to our scaly kids who don’t know how to navigate the world yet. I want to live this new era with my… boyfriend?” 

Barry blushes. Just this morning, a few hours ago, he wasn’t even sure what he would do the next day, and now Owen is back into his life, opening new perspectives, much more exciting than his current situation. He would say yes even if there were no other benefits, but Owen said the b-word without flinching. 

Barry’s fist clutches his friend’s dusty shirt, feeling firm abs underneath. Their eyes meet and he knows he won’t say no, he just can’t. 

“Okay…” 

“Okay?” Owen repeats, amused by the simplicity of his reaction. 

“Okay,” Barry nods. “I’m in.” 

Owen leans in and Barry thinks he’s coming for another kiss but the trainer just rests his head on his shoulder, arms wrapped around his chest. Barry lowers his head to inhale the scent of his hair, comforting, so familiar. There’s something about Owen that makes him feel feral, not even sexual or passionate but like the ex-marine’s embrace is his lair. He’s coming home. He wants to protect his territory after regretfully accepting for so long to share it with others. 

“Thanks,” Owen mumbles against the patch of dark skin showing between his shirt’s lapels. 

Barry lets out a soft sigh, “De rien.” 

He wishes it hadn’t taken Blue’s disappearance to make Owen realize his feelings, and yet he knows he wouldn’t have had the guts to understand his own sentiments either without this event. He shifts on the couch and offers, “Hey, how about a good night of sleep in a real bed? You look exhausted.” 

Owen smiles, “I don’t know. Saw you had a real bathtub in there? I’d kill for a good scrub right now, I’m so done washing my ass in cold streams!” 

Barry is obviously ready to extend his hospitality to his bathroom, yet as soon as they get up together, standing in front of each other, and realize they can share an actual bath and all that it implies, he can’t take his hands off Owen. They stumble to the bathroom, touching, holding each other, soft kisses landing here and there, already searching under their clothes. 

“Hope the tub is big enough for two,” Barry sighs with a shaky voice as teeth find his earlobe, revealing he’s never invited anyone in there. He’s tense, a good kind of tension. Excitement and adrenaline run under his feverish skin.

“We’ll make it work,” Owen promises, warms hands sliding Barry's shirt over his head. “Not gonna lie I missed that too. I swear, I was the at the airport…” 

They are interrupted by another kiss, deeper, tongues rolling and tasting, as they open each other’s pants. 

“... Claire asked what I wanted to do when I was home,” Owen pants, “... and I just… saw the next flight for Paris and couldn’t not take it. I only had my hard drive and a few clothes in my bag but I needed to see you so bad...” 

They crash against the doorframe, kisses deep and hot. Barry doesn’t leave the tempting embrace as he runs the water. He pulls down his lover’s pants, cups his firm ass in his hands, almost absent-mindedly. He wants it, he really does, and he is touched by his words, he’s moved and happy to share these feelings, but when Owen’s hand gropes his crotch, the ex-marine looks down at his limp cock in his boxers, slightly worried.

“Oh, uh… you don’t seem in the mood?” Owen cautiously takes a step back. “It’s okay, we don’t have to. If it’s too soon, it’s alright, I can wait.” 

Barry shakes his head. He's had small libido incidents before but this one might be the most embarrassing. “No, no come here, it’s just-- It’s alright. She’s gonna wake up, I promise, I really want to, come here.” 

He remembers, seeing Owen's curious eyebrows, that his American lover never ever understood why he talked about his dick with female pronouns. Yet another cultural difference that made them laugh. 

Owen frowns, “Are you sure? When I say I missed you, I also missed the cuddles and all the snuggling, you know. We can have a regular bath together if you need.” 

Barry rolls his eyes, adjusts his boxers, embarrassed by the reason for his distraction. “No, it’s not that, it’s just… you said you had your hard drive with you?” 

Owen’s look get incredulous as he understands his point. “... yeah?”

“As in… do you have like, actual pictures of what happened? Of the Indo-raptor and all?” Barry asks, biting his lower lip. 

“You big fucking nerd!” Owen exclaims, but he’s laughing, warm and friendly as usual. “Yeah, I have everything. Security footages, specs, all the docs and statistics… wanna see?”

“Do you mind?” Barry almost giggles, turning off the faucet. “Just show me where it is, I’ll let you have your bath.” 

Owen shakes his head and kisses him hard on the lips, “You’re unbelievable man, that’s why I love you.” 

He just lets it out like it’s no big deal and Barry feels even more tingly inside. 

They hurry back to the living room and Barry opens his laptop as Owen pulls the hard-drive out of a pile of dirty socks. Barry might be the nerd but Owen quickly forgets about his bath and they soon find themselves, almost naked, watching and commenting pictures and videos of the dinosaurs, their fights, their spectacular behaviors like two kids watching a science show. 

This is more than Barry expected, so much better than his boring routine. Owen has changed, one way or another their lives will never be the same again, just as the world who now has to live a new Jurassic age. All they can do is stand by each other and work for the best.


End file.
